


A Lannister's Honour

by TheBraveWolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: BAMF Sansa Stark, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, SoftKittyTywinLannister, non-canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBraveWolf/pseuds/TheBraveWolf
Summary: "The girl’s cries of pain guided her footsteps to the throne room, picking up the skirt of her mummer’s gown to run towards the cries, her long golden hair flying behind her."On A Lannister's Honour debts will be paid, an unlikely friendship springs up between Tywin Lannister's younger daughter and the young woman who will be known as the Red Wolf.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Joanna Lannister/Tywin Lannister, OFC&Sansa Stark, Others to be added
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Joella I

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind, I haven't written in years. I was posting under a now defunct pen name.
> 
> Wolfie x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legal Disclaimer: Other than the creation of Joella I do not own ASOIAF nor do I take credit for the universe that the mighty George RR Martin has created for our enjoyment. I also acknowledge that I make no money now or in future from this derivative work of fiction
> 
> -Edited October 12 for continuity and errors-

The girl’s cries of pain guided her footsteps to the throne room, picking up the skirt of her mummer’s gown to run towards the cries, her long golden hair flying behind her. At the door of the throne room, Joella Lannister stopped, took a breath, smoothed her skirt and fixed the herald with the steely stare her father was known for.  
“I suggest you announce my arrival, immediately ”  
“M-my Lady, court is already in sess-” He was cut off by her warning growl as the girls cries picked up a notch.  
“Did I ask for your snivelling? No! So announce to my royal nephew that his aunt is here without my varying titles if you please!”  
“LADY JOELLA OF HOUSE LANNISTER!” the herald called out pale and shaking, his staff hitting the floor with two bangs. Ser Meryn Trant stopped fist mid swing as he heard the newcomer announced. If Joella and Cersei were normally the image of their mother’s appearance, the younger of Tywin’s two daughters was at this moment the exact female embodiment of their father. And right now, Joella had the clear cold fury Tywin was known for displaying in battle written across her usually beautiful features making the resemblance to the Old Lion scarily uncanny. Without giving anyone the chance to comment on her first appearance in King’s Landing since Myrcella’s birth almost two and ten years ago; Joella spoke in a very calm tone; belying her fury.  
“Your Grace, may I enquire as to what in the seven hells you are doing allowing your betrothed to be beaten like a common criminal whilst you sit on your throne?”  
“She is the daughter of a traitor and sister to another! And I am the king!” Joffrey proclaimed haughtily like the spoilt child his mother allowed him to become.  
“Yes, the daughter of an alleged traitor. Not an actual traitor herself. Seven hells she is a child and you beat her for crimes she did not commit! The sins of the father, indeed! As of this moment, Lady Sansa of House Stark, is under my personal protection.”  
Cersei spoke up at last, her voice like poisoned honey. “My dear little sister, she is King Joffrey’s to do with as he pleases. Her father was a traitor and her brother is a traitor-” Joella snorted interrupting Cersei’s spiel.  
“If the honourable Ned Stark was a traitor, then I’m the thrice-damned Mad King’s spawn! Seven hells, Cersei! You don’t honestly expect anyone to believe that!” Sansa whimpered from the pain still crouched on the floor. Joella uttered a second snort of disgust and gentled her voice and tone as though she was soothing a frightened animal.  
“Come now, child. Let’s get you looked at and cleaned up.” Joella crouched down undoing the ties of her skirt, exposing her breeches, wrapping it like a cloak around Sansa’s thin shoulders. She straightened up, pulling Sansa gently to her feet. “Hold your head up my Lady, walk as straight as you can.” To the rather pathetic excuse of soldiers guarding her royal family, Joella looked over her shoulder and said “Court is over. See the Queen Mother and the King back to their chambers” And they walked out with the outraged glares of her sister and nephew burning into the back of their heads as the beaten girl was escorted out of court to the Tower of The Hand by possibly the bravest lioness since Joanna Lannister last graced The Red Keep almost thirty four years previously.  
***************************************************************************  
The door opened with a bang startling Tyrion away from the previous Small Council’s records. “Joella! What are you doing in here? Not that I’m unhappy to see my big sister of course.”  
“That spoilt fucking brat was ordering the Stark girl beaten bloody, by that fucking brutish cunt Trant!” Joella spat out, whilst ushering a silent ashen-faced Sansa into the room. “You, go fetch hot water, and you go to the guest rooms and fetch the small black trunk and the green saddle bag from in there” She ordered the two startled maids who weren’t used to a Lady using such crass profanities. Joella took a deep breath, then turned to Sansa and Tyrion who were both watching her with comically similar expressions of shock. “What? Her injuries need to be seen to and I don’t trust that doddering old fool, Pycelle. He’s too touchy feely for my liking. Little brother, it will be easier to treat her injuries on the desk. Can you please clear the desk and then give us the room?”  
“Of course!”  
Within a few minutes the maids had returned, had the desk cleared and then both maids as well as Tyrion took their leave closing the door.  
Joella poured a goblet of wine, poured a few drops of milk of the poppy and one drop sweetsleep into it and handed it to Sansa. “It’s not poisonous, or at least not in this quantity. You need pain relief and I’d rather you unconscious while I fix your wounds. Drink up and we’ll get you cleaned up, your injuries at least bandaged.” She turned her back to Sansa to rummage for what she needed when she heard a very quiet “Thank you, my Lady.”  
“I know you have no reason to trust me, I know what my older siblings and nephew have done to your family and I also know what my sister and beastly son have done to you personally, and nothing will make up for it but, I give you my word, on my honour –not as a Lannister but as a noblewoman stuck in this ring of hell with you- that I will protect you. I am a fighter, and a lady. My father disapproved of the first aspect of my personality until I used the skills, I painstakingly learned in order to kill a would-be assassin of my father at four and ten namedays old. As I'm sure you know how the saying goes. ‘A Lannister pays their debts’. Well, House Lannister owes House Stark a significant debt. I intend to see it paid, in full.”  
Sansa’s face was white by the end of Joella’s monologue. She swallowed and took a chance on the lady. “And if I said the debt could be paid in full by my return to my family?”  
Joella laughed, a rich soprano that warmed Sansa through. “I think we’re going to get along just fine little wolf.”


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A history lesson and an unusual request. The Little Wolf has teeth and claws. Thank you for all the love you've shown me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long! Real life took a priority, but i'll try to post where I can.

In the three moons that Lady Joella had taken Sansa under her wing, Sansa’s life and moods had lightened considerably.  
To gain the little wolfs’ trust, firstly she instructed Sansa in private to call her Joella and to ask her any question she so desired, if it was something she considered over the lines of courtesy, Joella would be honest and tell Sansa so. Joella was three and a half years older than Tyrion, and as such barely remembered her mother. She sat Sansa down, and proceeded to tell her the only three memories she had of Lady Joanna, the first being where they were in the gardens of Casterly Rock, Joanna showing her youngest daughter how to plant desert lilies, an exotic flower that outside of Dorne only grew in The Rocks’ glass gardens.  
The second memory was when little Joella went to tea with her mother and Queen Rhaella for whom she was partially named a slightly blurry memory she admitted that she may have dreamed, were it not for the smell of the perfume the late Queen wore imprinted in her memory.  
The last and most painful memory that occurred just nine moons after tea with Rhaella, was seeing her mother just before she died. She’d snuck in to meet her new sibling, only to find her mother making her father swear to love and look after all four children. “I didn’t understand the words she used. I only knew something was wrong with Mama. I crawled out of the closet I’d hidden in and climbed up onto the bed blood and all and kissed her as though she was going to be sleeping. Father picked me up, and-” Joella broke off, her eyes clouding with tears.  
“Please go on” Sansa pleaded. Joella cleared her throat and took a moment.  
“Father held me tight in his arms and said -in the gentlest tone I’ve ever heard him use -Mama was gone to be with the Seven.” He carried me to my room, told a maid to clean me up and put me to bed. We buried her three days later. I held Jamie and Cersei’s hands and said goodbye. From then Jamie was determined to join the Kingsguard, Cersei wanted to be a queen. Tyrion barely saw Father. I was forbidden from doing anything ‘unladylike’ or having much to do with Tyrion. I was of course while his most disobedient child I was also the one child he had to lean on that he hadn’t pushed away. Nine years after Mother’s death, Robert’s Rebellion started, a princess and two innocent children were slaughtered countless good men dead or injured and my sister became a queen. But I took pains to remind her and my father that the throne and legacy were built on the blood of innocents.”  
Sansa bit her lip. She didn’t know whether to ask her question or not. Joella looked her over with slightly reddened eyes. “Spit it out, Sansa. I can see you have a question.”  
“Was it truly your father who ordered the murder of Princess Elia and her children?” Joella closed her eyes. “Yes. No point in denying it. But he made a mistake. He didn’t want Elia, or the children harmed unnecessarily. He wanted their throats slit and be done with it. He made a mistake sending Gregor Clegane and Armory Lorch to kill them. I begged him for mercy on their behalf. I wanted to save them. Oberyn and Elia were my friends and foster family. I ended up getting word to Lord Varys, to try to warn her before it was too late. I couldn’t save them, and I wanted so badly to. It is the one thing I have never nor will I ever forgive my father for. The murder of the woman I looked to as a foster sister, and my niece and nephew. I loved them all fiercely. The very least I could do was escort their bones home to be buried. And I was told in no uncertain terms I was to never return to Dorne again, my personal friendship with The Martells dissolved. Because of my father.”  
The two women were quiet for a time sipping their tea.  
Sansa looked up to her protector and mentor. “Can you teach me how to defend myself? Arya had her dancing master Syrio Forel and I wish to not be a helpless lady forever reliant on benefactors and protectors. I don’t want to die like Princess Elia did.”  
Joella spluttered into her tea. “I beg your pardon? Dancing master?” Sansa flushed and bit her lip. “ You see my lady, uh that is, you see Joella, my father hired a Braavosi dancing master for Arya but I saw coming back from her “dancing lessons” with bruise and bumps. I’m not as stupid as most people would think. I saw those same scrapes and bruises on my brothers, Robb and Jon.”  
Joella stopped and thought about it a moment. “I believe your sister was being taught the Braavosi Water Dance. As for her instructor I had the pleasure of meeting him about a decade ago when I travelled to Braavos, to find my uncle, Gerion. I can teach you some simple yet effective moves but anything more would be out of place and out of character for you.”  
Sansa threw caution to the winds and her arms around the older woman. “Thank you! Thank you Joella!”  
Joella patted her back and simply said with a sad smile “Don’t thank me yet Little Wolf. You won’t die like Elia, but eventually you will need to fight for your life. I only pray I teach you enough to preserve your life and allow you to escape this shit-smelling hellhole.”

Varys scuttled away from his spot behind the wall in the parlour of the Tower. He heard all of the conversation and though his knees ached from kneeling to hear the secrets, he realised Joella Lannister, The Second Light of The West had a far bigger secret that she hadn’t told Sansa expressly but yearned to.


End file.
